


Tricks of the Trade

by Medeafic



Series: Supernova [7]
Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Blood, Bloodplay, Cutting, D/s, Knifeplay, M/M, Sado-Masochism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-21
Updated: 2011-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-15 20:45:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/164786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medeafic/pseuds/Medeafic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris gets a reward.  Zach gets dominated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tricks of the Trade

“It’s not a negotiation if you just say no to everything!”

“I’m not saying no to everything.  Just most things.”  Zach folds his arms, but he’s still smiling. 

Chris, on the other hand, is highly frustrated.  “If you’re not going to let me do anything, why did you even say you would?”  They’ve been talking about it since they woke up, and Zach is shooting down every suggestion.  So far, he’s agreed to precisely nothing.  And Chris hasn’t even bothered bringing up the knife again, not after Zach's reaction yesterday.  “Why won’t you let me tie you up?”

“Because I know what you want to do, and you’re not tying me up for that.”

“You do not – how _can_ you, when I don’t know?”  Sure, the knife – but Chris knows Zach would never let him.  So Chris is trying to think of something standard, something that Zach will let him do, something that Chris feels like he _can_ do, and it’s all getting too complicated.

“Oh, you’ll work your way there eventually, Pine.  In the meantime, I’m going to make coffee.”

When they have both been thoroughly caffeinated and are eating bagels, Chris continues.

“Blindfold?”

“I would consider it.  But not being tied up.”

“You’re the worst sub _ever_.”

“Go figure.”

“Don’t you _trust_ me?”

“Absolutely not, no.”

“What?  Why not?”  Chris is hurt.

“Because you haven’t had any training,” Zach says.  His voice is gentle.  “I know you’re excited about it, but you need to do something reasonably easy and unlikely to end badly.  And if I can’t see what you’re doing, I need to be able to at least stop you if it _feels_ wrong.  So you can blindfold, but not tie me up.”  Zach tops up his coffee mug and ignores Chris glaring at him.

“What do I have to do to tie you up?”

“Knock me unconscious.”

“Zach –”

“It’s not happening.”  He brushes bagel crumbs on the table into a neat pile.  “You know, it’s more about the psychological stuff, Pine.”

“How do you mean?”

“It’s the mindfuck.  That’s what counts.”

Chris thinks about that.  “And you definitely won’t let me tie you up?”

Zach gives a longsuffering sigh.  “You know, maybe you _should_ have a look at my journal.  It might give you some ideas.”

“I have ideas of my own!  You just keep knocking them back.”

“I mean, ideas about _me_.  How to get into my head.”

The temptation rises up again, but Chris shakes his head firmly.  “No.  Thank you, but no.”  Zach starts stacking the dishwasher as Chris finishes off his coffee.  “Zach?”

“Mm?”

“Have you ever done it before?  Let someone…you know.”

“Sort of.  When I was learning things.  The person who taught me said I had to see how it felt.  So that I could judge it better.  How much force to use, that kind of thing.  But it was never a full scene or anything.”

“Someone taught you?”

“Sure.  You think I just sprang forth, fully-formed and capable of handling a bullwhip?”

Chris starts laughing.  “I guess I kind of did, yeah.”

  
***

  
By ten-thirty, Chris has suggested almost everything he can think of, except for the thing he really wants to do, but that he knows Zach won’t let him do.

“Why don’t you just ask?” Zach says.  He’s lying on the bed watching Chris undress, after he decided they had time.  Zach is catching up with a friend for lunch and Chris has a meeting scheduled with a New York casting agent, but they have a spare hour in hand.  “All I can do is say no.”

“How did you know – oh, never mind.”  Chris has learned to stop being surprised when Zach can read his mind.  “You’ve been saying no all morning.  Maybe you should just _tell_ me what I’m allowed to do.”

“Someone’s snappy.”

“I’m going to make you undress like this,” Chris tells him.  “You can stand in the middle of the room and take your clothes off and see how it feels.  Unless you fucking veto it, of course.”

Zach laughs.  “Nah.  I can’t think of an excuse for that one.  So are you going to ask about the knife?”

Chris puts his hands on his hips and looks down, shrugging.  “You already said no, yesterday.”

“Won’t hurt to ask again.”

“I want to cut you.”

Zach slides off the bed and circles Chris, trailing fingers over his naked body as he does.  “Why do you want that so much?”  He stops in front of Chris, and looks at him, curious.

“I told you – for _Inishmore_.  I want to know what it’s like.”

“Sure, but it’s more than that.  You’ve been hung up on blood for a while now.  Why?”

“I like it,” Chris says carefully.  “It shows – connection.  Trust.  Even if you don’t _really_ trust me, it will feel like you do.  Because the blood is _real_.  Maybe you can pretend there’s no exchange of power, but you can’t deny blood.”  He gives Zach a challenging look, but Zach doesn’t respond.  “It’s also because of the cutting – I think the pain won’t be too much for you.  I know you don’t like pain, but you’ve cut yourself before, when you were practicing.  And you could take it.  It’s sharp for a moment but it doesn’t fire like the cane.”  That’s true enough.  And Zach has already ruled out the cane, the crop, every form of flogger and whip.

Zach stands right in front of him, so close that Chris can feel his body heat radiating, without touching.  “Did you ever like blood so much before me?”

“Of course not.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

“Zach, I didn’t like _guys_ so much before you.  No, it doesn’t bother me.”

“Alright.  You can cut me.  With a _light_ hand.  But the moment I safe word, you stop.”

Chris is stunned to silence for a moment, but then stammers, “Of course.  Do I need to practice?”

“No, absolutely not.  No cutting yourself.”

“But –”

“No.  Just – don’t push too hard when you do it.  That knife really is razor sharp.”

“We could get a duller blade.”

“No!”  Zach looks alarmed.  “That’s completely unsafe.”

“Oh.  Okay.  Wait – what are your safe words?”

“Same as yours.”

“Uh-uh, no way, buddy, they’re mine,” Chris says, grinning.  “Get your own damn safe words.”  Zach gets a gleam in his eye, and Chris decides he doesn’t like walking a line _quite_ so fine.  “But whatever you say, Zach, if you want to use them too, of course you can –”

“That’s more like it.”

“Because you’re in control, right?”  Chris just can’t stop himself, because he’s still feeling a vague sense of irritation over the conversation last night, and an unpleasant desire to provoke.  But Zach just raises his eyebrows and pushes him gently backwards towards the bed.  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”  Zach makes no sign that he’s heard or cares, and Chris hates it when he’s like this, because it makes him want to apologize repeatedly until he’s groveling, just to make sure things are okay between them.  “Sorry.  I didn’t mean –”

“You know what I think you need?” Zach asks, as he starts stripping off his own clothes.  Chris shakes his head, nervous.  “I think you need a reward.”

Chris blinks.  “Um.  Okay?”

“A little encouragement, right?  That would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

“I’m not sure,” Chris says, suspicious.  “Why am I getting a reward?”

“Because you’re so _good_ , Christopher.  All the time.  You deserve some recognition.”  Zach smiles at him.  “Why so quiet?”

“What exactly _is_ this reward?”

Zach pulls off his underwear and lies down on the bed next to him.  “Relax,” he says with a wide grin.  “We’ll get there.  First, I want you to come for me.”

It’s not exactly objectionable, being wrapped up in Zach’s long limbs and subjected to an expert hand-job, interspersed with nips and pinches and hair-tugs to keep an equilibrium of pain and pleasure.  Chris tries to remember his technique, because he figures it might be useful when he finally gets a turn.  Zach makes him ask – no, _beg_ permission to come, and Chris feels a little dizzy when he finally does. 

“My turn,” Zach tells him when he’s recovered.  “Blow me.”  Chris figures that maybe this is Zach’s idea of a reward.  Not that he’s complaining.  He wriggles his way down the bed and smiles up at Zach from between his legs.

“Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.  Oh – hang on.”  Chris stops, mid-suck.  Zach tosses the lube down the bed, and says casually, “Since you’re down there, you might as well try your fingers.”

Chris removes the cock from his mouth and looks up, confused.  “My fingers?”

“Yes, Christopher.  Your fingers.”

“My fingers.”  Part of his brain is saying, _Your fingers, you fucking idiot!  Use them!_ But the other part is saying, _Don’t be ridiculous.  You must have misunderstood.  Zach said…_ “You said a lot of mileage.  Before something like that.”

Zach gives a slight shrug.  “You don’t think there’s been a lot of mileage since then?  And I promised you a reward, right?”

“Seriously?”

Zach looks like he’s trying not to laugh.  “Seriously.  Are you going to do it, or are you going to sit there staring at me?”

Chris scrabbles for the lube like a drowning man grabbing at a lifeboat.  “Hell yes, I’m gonna do it.”  He finds the tube and squeezes it everywhere, coating his fingers with double the amount he probably needs.  “Um,” he says.  “How…”

“Yes?”

“How many fingers?”

Zach considers for a moment.  “Start with one, and see how you feel,” he advises with a grin.  “Work your way up.”

“Gee, thanks for being so gentle with me.” 

“I’m a sensitive lover.”

Chris can think of a few more appropriate descriptors, but keeps them to himself.  He tentatively slides a finger around Zach’s ass cleft.  “Um.  You’ll tell me if I, uh.  Hurt you?”

Zach reaches down to twist a lock of Chris’s hair around his finger.  “Of course.  But you won’t hurt me.  And anyway, right now you’re nowhere near hurting me,” he adds pointedly.

“Jesus, give me a second to get my head around it,” Chris mutters.  Zach’s asshole has never been high on his list of places to visit, because if he’s ventured near it, Zach has always slapped Chris’s hand or pulled it away like he’s a disobedient child.  So right now, it’s like he’s a kid who’s allowed to visit Disneyland.  Without a clear idea of exactly where Disneyland is situated.  And he doesn’t have a great view from this position.  He slips his tongue out to lick at his lips.

Zach snorts, and Chris glares at him.  “ _What?_ ”

“You look like you’re working out a proof for Fermat’s last theorem.”

“Well, I suck at math.  So shut up.  Let me concentrate.”

“Yes, sir.  Sorry, sir.”  Zach gives him a sharp grin. 

Chris ignores him, takes his cock into his mouth again and sucks, until Zach makes a noise and drops his head back.  He spreads his legs wider to help.  _Finally_ , Chris thinks, and it’s easier now.  He pulls away from Zach’s dick for a second to focus attention, and timidly dips a fingertip inside.

 _Okay_ , Chris thinks.  _This is really fucking weird_.  It’s not like he’s _never_ done this before, but never with a guy.  And never with a guy like Zach, who’s usually holding him down or ordering him around or doing _this_ to _him_.  It’s kind of a rush.  He pushes in further, and hears Zach’s moan; feels a flood of desire and want and need and sucks his cock down again.  Zach shifts his hips up and Chris’s finger is suddenly right up inside him. 

Zach is hot and tight and squeezing and it’s Chris’s turn to moan around the cock in his mouth.  He tries to remember how Zach does it to him, and pulls his finger out a little.  Zach’s hand, still in his hair, clenches.  Chris takes it as a good sign. 

He starts sucking again, moving his finger in and out, feels his cheeks grow hot.  His own dick is painfully hard and pushing into the bed.

“Go on.  Another finger.  And just like that, keep doing what you’re doing.”  Chris does what he’s told automatically.  He pulls back from the cocksucking so he can watch his fingers disappear into Zach.  Goes slowly so he can always remember this. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, because all of a sudden, that’s what he wants to do.  He wants to slide his cock in there instead of his fingers.  It’s been so long since he’s been able to bury himself inside of anyone, and it’s never been an issue before, but he _misses_ it.  The realization hits him hard, and he pushes his fingers right in, all the way, hears Zach gasp.

Chris thinks about what Zach does to him, pushes his fingertips up, feeling around for –

“Jesus!” Zach tugs at his hair, and Chris smirks.  Bullseye.  He wraps his mouth around Zach’s length again, flicks his tongue around the ridge.  Zach laughs like he can’t believe it.  “Good boy,” he manages to say, before Chris swallows him down and starts finger fucking him in earnest.

Chris is pretty sure Zach didn’t think it would go quite like this, and he feels almost drunk from the power.  He adds another finger without Zach saying anything and is faintly surprised when Zach doesn’t grab him and tell him he should have asked permission.  He’s so into it that he’s a bit lazy about his blow job technique, but he doesn’t care, not right now.

“Watch the teeth,” Zach growls after a few minutes – and Chris growls back before he can help himself.

Zach pulls his head up firmly by the hair, so their eyes lock and Chris’s fingers stall.

“I _said_.  Watch.  The.  Teeth.”

“Okay.  Okay, fine.”  He winces as Zach pulls even tighter at his hair.  “I’m _sorry_.”

Zach smiles, pleased, and releases him.  “You might have your fingers inside me,” he says silkily, “but let’s not forget ourselves, Christopher.”  Chris can feel himself flushing bright red, and he’s not sure whether it’s humiliation or irritation.  Zach raises an eyebrow.  “You know, if you do a good job with your fingers, one day you might get to use your cock.”  He looks over Chris’s face intently.  “I can see you like that idea.  Don’t you?”  Chris nods; watches a slow smirk twist Zach’s lips.  “Let’s move.  I want to be on top of you.”  He pulls his hips away and Chris’s fingers come out.  “On your back.”

Chris flops over on the bed eagerly, and Zach straddles him. 

“Continue,” Zach says.  “Fingers inside me.  Other hand on my dick.”

Chris slides his fingers back in, watching Zach’s face, annoyed when it remains impassive.  Pushes the heel of his hand in behind Zach’s balls, and feels a surge of satisfaction when it prompts a noise.  He grabs at Zach’s cock and starts working it over, his palm slick with saliva and the lube spilled all over his hands.  Zach leans forward and grabs at the bed-head, panting. 

“Can I talk?  Want me to talk?”

“Sure,” Zach says unevenly.  “Yeah.  Talk.  Tell me…” 

Chris is unreasonably proud of himself that Zach trails off.  “You feel _good_ inside,” he says.  His hand is brushing over his own dick repetitively as he jerks at Zach.  “Nice and hot.  Smooth.  I really want to fuck you, Zach.  You ever going to let me?”

Zach makes a noise that Chris could swear is supposed to be a laugh, but comes out more like a snarl.  “Make me come all over you,” he says.

Chris licks his lips again and is glad to see Zach’s eyes go wide.  “Yeah, that sounds good,” he says.  “Come on my chest or my face?”  He twists his wrist almost painfully, so his fingers start hitting that spot right on, but it’s worth it, totally worth it, from the look in Zach’s eyes.  He’s so close. 

“ _Face_.”  Zach lifts himself up higher to aim, and Chris shudders at the strangled tone in his voice.

Chris wants to say something porny, like _Come on, yeah, come all over me_ , but when he licks his lips again to speak, Zach shoves his thumb into Chris’s mouth.  He sucks, and dares to bite a little, and that’s what does it.  His gaze locks onto Zach’s, but Zach yanks out his thumb and covers Chris’s eyes with his hand.  He feels Zach shoot straight over his mouth, across his cheek, pushing into Chris’s fist until he’s done.

Chris swears in frustration, trying to shake off the hand over his eyes, but Zach is laughing, trying to catch his breath.  “No.  You don’t get to watch me come like this.”

Zach rolls off him, takes away his hand, and Chris is up on his elbow immediately, glaring at him.  “I wanted to _see_.”

“I know.  But I did you a favor.  Getting jizz in your eyes?  Painful.”  He runs a hand down his own chest with a contented smile.  “Mmm.  That was good.”

Chris scowls.  Zach never lets him watch, except that one time, before they were even officially going out.  He’s not allowed to watch unless Zach has his dick inside him, and when his dick is inside him, Chris's priorities tend to change.  And when Zach jerks off on top of him, he’s always biting into Chris’s neck or shoulder when he comes.  “It’s not _fair_.”

“Nope.  It’s not.  Go wash up.”

“But –”

“Go wash up, Christopher.  You have spooge all over your face.  Not that it’s not lovely to see, but you _do_ have a lunch meeting, after all.”

  
***

  
But after his lunch meeting, Chris wonders why he bothered to show up, given that he spends the whole time dwelling on Zach being an unfair bastard.  Later, Chris knows, he’ll get a pissed-off call from his manager, but he’s finding it hard to care.

Because he’s thinking about it again, what Zach said the night before.  _I don’t have any power over you, not really._

“What kind of roles here in New York do you think could help your career progress?  What are you looking for?”  The casting agent stabs at his lettuce as though the whole thing is pointless.

 _Why do I like blood so much?_ “I guess – stuff that resonates for me.”

“That’s…not very helpful, Chris.”

 _Christopher._   “Sorry.  I know you’re trying to help me out.”  _Did you ever like blood so much before me?_

 __“I do want to help you.  You just don’t seem to be giving me the chance.”

“Sorry.”

“Right.  How’s the weather back there in LA?” 

“Yeah.  Good.  As usual.”  _The power exchange that we have is just an illusion._

 __The casting agent has given up, and they finish the meal with simple pleasantries about the weather in Los Angeles versus New York.  And all the way home, all Chris can hear is Zach’s voice, from the night before, telling him that it’s all make believe, and it makes him determined to push the boundaries when he gets his chance.  Make it real.

Zach is not there when he gets to the apartment, but Corey is sitting on the steps, reading a comic book.

“Hey,” Chris says, awkwardly.

“Hey, man!  How are you?”

“Yeah.  Good.  Did Zach invite you over?”

“Nah, man, don’t worry about it – I’m not going to interrupt or anything.  Just here to get Zach’s signature on some contracts.  For BTD, you know?”

Chris nods, sits down.  “I’m not sure how long he’ll be.”

“You’d  think he would’ve given his boyfriend a key.  Fucker.”  Corey doesn’t seem surprised, though.  He smiles and sits back on his hands.  “How are you liking New York?”

“Better.”

“Yeah, Zach said you weren’t too fond at first.”

“I got over it.  Just missed him, I guess.”

Corey leans back and nods, his eyes closed against the sun.  “He’s different here.  I mean…”  Chris sees him sneak a look at him.  “You know what I mean, right?”

“Not really.  He’s Zach.”

“Sure, but Zach in New York is all relaxed, theater guy, non-celeb type deal.  That must suck for you, by the way.”

“What?”

“Well – everywhere’s the same for you, right?  Chris Pine: movie star.”

Chris stares at Corey.  “No.  No, actually.  Everywhere is not the same for me and I am not just a _movie star_.”  He spits the words out as though they’re bitter in his mouth.

“Wow, sorry, man.”  Corey does look contrite.  “Just what Zach’s been saying about you – we just thought…”

“What’s he been saying?”

“Oh – just – I dunno.  You’re…you do movies.”  Corey trails off with a vacuous smile.

“Yeah, and?”

“And.  I don’t know.  Can you stop clenching your fist like that?  Yeah.  Okay.  Thanks, man.  I’m not actually _trying_ to piss you off.”

Chris starts laughing.  It’s the only thing he can do right now.  “I’m not _just_ a fucking movie star, okay?” he says eventually.  “No more than Zach, anyway.  I did theater last year – _Farragut North_ , for Christ’s sake.  While Zach was, what – creeping people out as Sylar every Monday night?”

Corey is smiling and nodding – not listening.  Trying to block it out.  “Sure man, sorry.  Look, I never know what I’m talking about.  Don’t listen to anything I say.  I just open my mouth and stuff comes out, you know?”  He doesn’t want to get involved, Chris can see.

Zach chooses that inopportune moment to stroll up.  “Block party?”

Corey and Chris look at him blankly.

“Because you’re sitting around on my stoop and…never mind.  Not funny, obviously.  Let’s go up.”

Corey only stays for a few minutes to get Zach’s signature, and almost runs on his way out.  “What’s up with him?” Zach wonders, watching from the window as he jogs down the street.

“I think he said something he shouldn’t have.”

Zach turns around.  “Corey?  But he likes you.”

“Yeah.  It was something you said about me.”

Zach looks puzzled.  “What did I say?”

“I’m not sure.  Called me a movie star or something.  Then Corey got all weird about it and wanted me to forget it.”

“Oh.”  Zach smiles the same vacuous smile that Corey gave him earlier, and Chris feels like screaming.

“What the fuck did you _say_?”

“Nothing, not really.”

“ _Zach_.”

“Really – it was nothing.  I just said you had this classic Hollywood look, like a Golden Age movie star, and then…”  Zach starts to look uncomfortable.  “Oh.”

“And then?”

“I, um.  I said maybe that’s why your handlers – I mean, whatever, your _people_ , why they’re trying to make sure no one finds out.  About us.  Because they know you’ll make it really big in Hollywood.  And they want to make sure your image is totally, you know…”  His voice dies.

“Straight?”

“Well, yeah.”

“You were talking about _that_ with _them_?”  Chris can’t help but feel betrayed, because he thought they had a tacit understanding that some things, and definitely things like _that_ , shouldn’t be spoken about with others.

“Corey just asked if it bothers me.  What you do.”

“What I _do_?  You can’t even say it now?”

“I don’t particularly want to talk about it.”

“But you talked about it with them.”

“I have to talk about it to _someone_ ,” Zach says, looking irritated.  “And I can’t talk about it with you.”

“That’s exactly the kind of thing you should be talking –”

“No, it’s not, because I think it’s stupid and a waste of time and actually, it’s fucking disrespectful to me, if you really want to know.  But that’s not something you want to hear.”

“Wow.”

“Fuck.  I shouldn’t have said –”

“No, really.  At least I know what you really think now.”  But he’s actually too hurt to be angry.  “If you don’t like it when I do that, why didn’t you just tell me?  Instead of bitching about it to your friends?  I’ve asked you often enough about it.”

Zach spreads his hands.  “I wasn’t _bitching_ about it.  And because it’s nothing to do with me.  It’s your career – you need to do what you think is best.”

“It has _everything_ to do with you!”  Maybe he’s not too hurt to be angry after all, because he’s shouting now.  “You know, just because you don’t want to admit to something doesn’t make it not true!”

Zach narrows his eyes.  “Please don’t shout at me.”

Chris tries to calm himself down, but staring at Zach isn’t helping.  “And what the fuck did you mean, make it big in Hollywood?  Like you won’t?  Like you haven’t?”

“I’m not that kind of actor.”  As soon as he’s said it, Chris can see Zach thinking that it was a mistake.  A tactical error.

“Not that kind of actor, huh?  Oh, I get it now.  You’re not _just_ a movie star, right?  Unlike me?”

“No.  That’s not what I meant.  Why are you trying to start a fight with me?”  But Chris can see Zach squirming, or the Zach equivalent of it, anyway.  “I don’t want to fight.”

 _Neither do I, actually_ , Chris thinks.  _We’ve been fighting too much lately_.  It bothers him, but he doesn’t want to talk about it right now.  Because that’s the kind of thing Zach gets all weird about, thinking they’re not staying within normal parameters for a couple.  “I’m gonna go for a run,” he says instead.

  
***

  
When he arrives back an hour later, he’s managed to sweat out his annoyance, and Zach lets him in without a word.  After he’s showered, he’s coming around to think that he’s probably overreacted, and besides, Zach didn’t even say anything _bad_ , not really, and he’s probably right, it _is_ disrespectful – but Zach stops him in the bedroom and hugs him.

“I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have been talking about you like that.  You were right.”

“I was right?”

“Yeah.”

“Huh.”  He laughs.  “Actually, I was just working my way up to apologizing to you, because – yeah.  I kind of lost it over nothing much.”

“So we both suck.”

“Looks like.”

Chris continues getting dressed.

“You know, I’ve been thinking I might cut things short here,” Zach says out of nowhere.

“What?”

“Come home.  Early.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Coming back to LA.  I mean – I’m not getting as many theater offers as I thought I would anyway, and that’s mostly why I came here, so –”

“No.”  Chris walks over to him.  “Thanks, Zach.  I get why you’re saying this.  But no.  This place is where you’re meant to be.”

“You think?”

“Yeah.”  Corey was right, Chris has to admit.  Zach is different here – but that’s not a bad thing.  “It’s important to you.  To your career.  Stay here.  We’ll be okay.”

“You shouldn’t be worrying about my career.”

“Well, I am.  Because it’s part of who you are.  So stay here.  Do what you’ve gotta do.”

Zach can’t quite look him in the eye.  “Okay.  If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”  Then it hits him.  “Are you _still_ worried I’m going to leave you?  Is that what that was about?”

Zach shrugs.

“Christ, you’re insecure.”  Chris grins.  “I’m not going to leave you.  I promise.”

“You can’t promise something like that.”

“Sure I can.  I just did.  Come on, Zach, will you cheer up?  You need to stop thinking I’m gonna dump your ass just because we have a fight.”  Chris pulls his jeans on and tries to find his other shoe, somewhere under the bed.

Zach nods.  “So, I was thinking.  Tonight.  You want to do it then?  The cutting?”

“Tonight?”

“No time like the present.  And the sooner the better, or I might lose my nerve.”

“Sure, okay.  Tonight.”

“Three cuts only.”

“Zach –”

“That’s my limit.  Three or nothing, Christopher – your choice.”

“Fine.  Three it is.”

“Come here.  I’ll show you were you can cut.  Do me a favor and _listen_ , okay?  You need to remember this or I’ll have to stop you in the middle of it.  What are you looking at me like that for?”

“Just thinking how pretty your mouth looks.  It’s distracting.  How about a gag tonight?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Worst.  Sub.  Ever.”

But he listens carefully and asks questions, and thinks.  About what he wants to do, and how he wants to do it.  And most of all, about pushing boundaries.  The mindfuck.

“No fingers,” Zach says.

“ _What_ _?_   But you just let me –”

“That was a special, one-time deal.  And _absolutely no_ fucking me – understand?”

“This _sucks_.  Completely.”

“That’s fine.  You can suck all you like.”

  
***

  
“I said no tying up.”  Zach stubbornly folds his arms and glares at Chris.

“I know.  No tying up.”

“Then what in the hell are those?”  He waves his hand at the bed, where Christ has secured straps around the headboard, ends loose.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I _said_ , no –”

“And _I_ said, don’t worry about it.  I get it, Zach.  No tying up.  I promise.  Now stand in the middle of the room and strip.”  Chris gives a huge grin.  “This is going to be _awesome_.”

Zach raises an eyebrow.  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you sound so bossy.”

“Get used to it.  No, no –”  He grabs at Zach’s fingers.  “Do it slowly.  Tease me.  Also, if you could blush, that would be great.”

Zach looks shocked for a split second, and then smiles.  He doesn’t say anything, but slows down his unbuttoning.  And then unbelievably, he blushes, a beautiful pink saturation spreading under his eyes across his cheekbones, and creeping across his chest. 

Chris stares.  “How did you –”

“Oh, didn’t you know?  I’m an actor.”

“No way.  No one blushes on cue like that.  Really?  Damn.  You have to teach me that trick.”  Zach pulls him close to whisper in his ear, and then watches his face, grinning when he sees Chris flush.

“There you go.  Blushing on cue,” Zach says.  Chris tries to stammer some kind of comeback, but his brain is sticking over Zach’s words.  Zach runs his hands under Chris’s shirt, his own falling open.

 “So – what do you think about to make yourself blush?” Chris wonders.  “You’re so...It must be something…”

Zach gets a strange look in his eyes, but doesn’t reply.  He tugs at Chris’s shirt, pulling him in to kiss again.

“Hey, hey – I’m the one in charge here.”  Chris frowns and pushes him back.  “Behave.”

“Christopher –”

“No.  You don’t get to say my name during this.  You can call me ‘sir’, understand?”  The bemused look on Zach’s face is priceless, and Chris feels a heady rush.  This?  Is going to be even more fun than he first thought.  “And don’t speak unless you’re spoken to.  No, don’t you dare smile at me.  This isn’t a joke, _Zachary_.”

Zach carefully lets his face fall back into neutral and nods.  Chris almost wants to laugh himself.  He’s betting Zach never expected it to be like this.

“On the bed,” he snaps, when Zach is naked, and Zach – _obeys_.  Oh, yeah.  Chris is definitely starting to see why Zach likes this so much.  “No, sit up – back against the headboard.  Jesus, Zach – don’t make me come over there and move you into position, I swear to God –”

Zach’s eyes widen, and he quirks a tiny smile, but does as he’s told.  Chris takes a moment to reflect – Zach is usually so polite, says please and thank you as he issues orders.  But Chris feels absolutely no desire to be polite, not right now.  Maybe – maybe it _is_ payback.  Or maybe he’s just determined to show Zach he _is_ more than just a movie star – to show him he’s not the only serious actor in this relationship.

“Hold on to the straps.  _Do not_ let go.”  Zach gets it.  He looks approving, almost like he’s wondering why he hasn’t thought of this himself, and winds the straps around his wrists and hands.  Chris starts stripping off his clothes, and he is completely confident – no blushing for him, not today.  Zach is trying not to look at him.  It’s a little weird.

Chris straddles him and looks down at Zach’s crotch.  “Here’s the thing, Zachary,” he says casually.  “I know this isn’t really your thing.  But I don’t care, not right now.  I want to enjoy myself.  Understand?”

“Yes, sir.”  Not even a hint of irony.  Chris makes a mental note to thank Zach for that later.

“So I want you hard.  All through this.  I don’t care what you have to think about to get hard, and stay hard, whatever you need.  But I want you to convince me that you’re getting off on _this_ , on what I’m going to do to you.  Are we clear?”

“We are clear, sir.”

Chris leans forward and kisses his forehead before he can stop himself, but Zach doesn’t even blink.  _No more slips_ , Chris tells himself.  _Let’s do this_.

He wraps his hand around Zach’s cock, half-hard.  “I’ll help you.  Because I’m generous.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Zach drops his eyes and Chris feels his own heart start beating faster at the sweep of his eyelashes.  It doesn’t take long before Zach is firm against his palm, and Chris has to fight the urge to go down on him.  Instead, he swaps hands and reaches for the knife, flicks it open.  “Are you scared?”

“No, sir.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Absolutely, sir.”  And damn him, Zach is good enough that Chris can’t tell if he’s acting or telling the truth. 

“I’m going to cut you now,” Chris tells him, and he wishes his voice was a little stronger, a little more certain.  “And – it will hurt.  You’ll tell me if…”

Zach looks at him, and his eyes are telling him that it’s okay.  It will be alright.  So he places his hand carefully, fingers splayed, over Zach’s heart, keeping the skin taut like Zach told him earlier, and pauses, looking at his Aum necklace.  Zach refused to take it off.

He has the right place – not too close to the sternum, making sure the flesh is plump enough to take a cut.  The thought of metal scraping on bone makes him shiver, and Zach looks a little startled.  _It’s the right spot_ , he tells his hand.  _What are you waiting for?_ He’s holding the knife like a scalpel, like he’s ready to begin a dissection.  He can feel Zach’s heartbeat, rapid under his finger tips, and he notices that the knife is shaking in his hand, just a little.  Zach never shakes.  He steels himself and lowers the blade.

It’s a surprise to him how easily it slices into Zach’s skin, faster than he realized it would happen – _like butter_ , he thinks, and then tells himself that that’s such a terrible cliché, and then tells himself to concentrate, Jesus, he’s cutting into his boyfriend’s chest, he needs to _concentrate_.  Zach hisses and closes his eyes, and Chris pulls down slowly, watching a red line open up behind the blade.

It’s just a small cut, really, and Chris tries his best to make sure it stays shallow, but he’s surprised even so by the blood that wells out of it.  He stares at it for what seems like a long time, a thick red thread wending its way down Zach’s chest, catching in the hairs and spreading into tiny rivulets.  He looks up and sees Zach watching him, his eyes squinting a little in pain.

“Is it too much?” Chris whispers.  His hand is shaking again, his fingers clutching too tightly at the handle of the knife.  But Zach shakes his head. 

Chris places the next cut close by.  It’s longer, but not as deep, and the blood doesn’t spill out as much this time.  He only has one left, because he promised – only three, and Zach is panting in pain, and seriously, guy has to build up a higher tolerance to pain, Chris thinks, because this is way over the top.  “Wait – it’s – a little drastic,” Zach says desperately, and Chris patiently waits.  “ _Fuck_.”

 _That’s the point_ , Chris thinks suddenly.  _It’s a substitute for fucking you._   Now that he gets it, he wonders if Zach has always known, and if that’s why he’s letting him do it and if that’s why he let him use his fingers earlier –

Zach is frowning slightly, looking wary, maybe even a little alarmed.  So Chris smiles.

“One more,” he says.  “Just one more.  You’re being so good.”  It’s true.  Zach’s cock is as thick and hard as ever, resting against his stomach underneath Chris’s.  “So good for me, thank you.  Just one more and then –”  Chris smiles at him.  “Then we can move on.”

“Okay.  One more.”

Other side of the chest this time, and Zach yelps when the knife carves into him, but by this time Chris understands the blade better – how deep he can go with it, and how long he can cut.  Zach’s practice runs suddenly make complete sense, and Chris wishes he could have had some practice too – but when the blood flows, he stops thinking about that and just thinks about how pretty it looks, that strange bright red against Zach’s pale skin and black hair.  “You look so beautiful,” he breathes.  He stops with the tip of the blade still enveloped in flesh and looks at Zach.  He’s colorless, his jaw clenched.  And for a split second, Chris has the urge to push deeper in with the knife.  Zach meets his eyes, almost accusingly, and Chris removes the blade from his chest.

Zach lets out a quiet sigh, relaxes.  He thinks they’re done.

Chris smiles again, and Zach smiles back.  “One more.  No.  I’m not kidding.  I want one more cut.”  Watching Zach’s mouth collapse into a thin line is fascinating; he’s pressing his lips together so hard that they turn pale and bloodless.  “I know.  You didn’t agree to that.  And I suppose you can safe word if you want.  But you’re here, and I’m here, and one more isn’t going to kill you, right?  And I like it, Zach, I _like_ it.  I want you to do this for me.  Don’t I always do whatever _you_ ask?”

He runs his finger carefully up the blade of the knife, wiping off the blood.  Zach is watching him, breathing slower now, yoga breaths.  Chris keeps steady eye contact as his lifts his finger to his mouth and licks it.  As he does, he feels Zach’s dick stir under his own.

“Would you like to taste?” he asks.

“Yes.  Sir.  Please.”  Chris can see that Zach’s pupils are dilated, and even Zach’s not good enough an actor to pull _that_ off.  He really is hot for this.  Not for the pain, no, but – the blood.

“Then let’s make a deal.  You can taste.  If I get one more cut.”  They look at each other for a long time.  “Don’t be such a coward,” Chris says, and it comes out a little more spitefully than he meant it, but Jesus, he’s done much worse for Zach’s pleasure.

Zach’s eyes go flinty and Chris can tell he’s judging him.  Judging whether or not Chris really means it, whether or not to safe word, whether he’s going to give in and let Chris have his own way.  And Chris looks back impassively, not giving away a goddamn thing. 

In the end, he says, “You’re the one with all the power here, _right_ _?_   Can I cut you or not?  Are you going to safe word or not?”

“I’m not a coward,” Zach says, and then spits out, “ _Sir_.”

“No, of course not.”  Chris keeps his tone completely neutral and Zach glares at him.  “Just one more.  I promise.  And we’ll be done with the pain.  We’ll be done with the pain and you can taste.”

Zach makes a noise of frustration, but he nods, and Chris flattens his fingers against his skin again, before Zach can change his mind.  He catches his breath again when the knife slips in, so gently, and Chris feels his own skin aching as he watches.  “Lovely.”  Not so long, this one, but deep, maybe deeper than the rest, and he’s not sure if that was by design or accident, but Zach barks in pain and he has to pull the knife away quickly, too quickly.  Zach is _furious_ , he can see, but Chris is too caught up in his own haze of triumph to really care, because he did it.  He pushed.  And Zach gave in.  And the proof of it is sliding in a slow red stream down Zach’s chest.

He thinks he’s starting to understand why Zach likes this so much.  Small victory after small victory until he’s taken a mile instead of the original agreed-upon inch.  Chris starts wondering how much further he can push.

“You want to taste now?” he asks casually, and Zach swallows.  Nods.  “Beg me.”  _That_ gets a reaction – Zach’s lip curls and he flashes a sharp canine.  “I said, _beg_ me.”

Another moment full of hard eye contact and he can see Zach is just about to safe word, by the way he’s grabbing at the straps, but then he surprises Chris after all.  “Please.”

“That’s _terrible_.  You’ve heard me begging often enough.  Do better.  Or else you won’t get to taste.  And it tastes _good_ , Zach, let me tell you.”  He trails a finger over the shallowest cut and dabs a splotch of blood on the end of Zach’s nose, kisses it off.  “So go on.  Beg me.”

“We had a _deal_.  Sir.”

“I’m not asking for much here, Zach.”  Chris sees the speculative look that Zach gives him, but he stares back blankly until Zach sighs, and – actually starts begging.

“Please, sir, I would love to taste it, so much, please would you let me, I’ll do anything if you’ll just –”

Chris can’t help it; he laughs.  “That’s still pretty bad, but okay.  I can see you’re trying.  And that’s what counts, right?”  He rises up on his knees and strokes his cock through the blood on Zach’s chest.  “Move down,” he says, pushing at Zach’s shoulders until his dick is lined up with Zach’s mouth, his breath warm across the head of it.  Zach opens his mouth but Chris grabs his hair.  “Say thank you,” he admonishes.

“Thank you, sir.”  What Zach is really saying, Chris knows now without a doubt, is _You’ll pay for this later._   But that’s fine, it’s all fine, as Zach starts sucking him, tonguing at the blood, and Chris has to brace himself on the wall to hold back from just fucking his face.

 _But you don’t have to hold back_ , he tells himself.  And if he’s not allowed to fuck Zach’s ass, by God he’ll fuck his mouth now that he has the chance.

He can see Zach’s hands clench around the straps in surprise as Chris grabs his head and pushes in as far as he can.  He has to remind himself to be careful, and he feels faint astonishment at Zach’s capacity for self-control.  But Zach adjusts quickly, and before Chris can even think about slowing down, he’s coming, hard, and Zach swallows it all, and it’s a damn shame because Chris wanted to bite him when he came but – _God_ it feels good coming down his throat like this.

He has to collapse on the bed for a while to get his breath back, and he’s laughing a little.  Zach watches him with a wicked smile, like he thinks he’s won a round.

“Your turn,” Chris tells him, getting back on top of him.  “Sit up again.  And don’t you move those hands, Zachary.”

Zach obviously thought that was going to be it, because he frowns a little, but still – obeys.

“I could really get into this, you doing what you’re told.”  It’s out of his mouth before he thinks it through, and Zach’s reaction – a flicker of a snarl – makes it even better.  “I think you’re a natural at it.  Come on, be good, Zachary.  Be a good boy for me.”  Chris starts chuckling as Zach fights to maintain his composure.  “You’re doing so well.  And you’ll like this next bit, I promise.  No more pain.”

Chris is surprised to find that Zach is still hard.  He has to admit – Zach really _is_ good at doing what he’s told, even though he clearly resents it.  He grabs the lube, because Zach prefers less friction than Chris does, and starts to work Zach’s cock, occasionally bending to lick at his chest. 

“Good, right?”

“Yes.  Sir.”  But Zach still looks suspicious.

“You look like you don’t trust me, Zachary.  You just let me cut you, but you’re worried about _this_?”  He uses the same sing-song tone Zach uses on him sometimes, and he knows it hits home because Zach flinches.

“What exactly are you planning on doing?”

Chris smirks.  First time Zach has completely broken character.  And he broke before Chris.

“I’m going to get you off, that’s all.”

“We never discussed –”

“Zach, come on, let me.  Jesus, I just wanna watch.  Just once.”  He offers his brightest, most charming smile – _I’ll give you fucking Golden Age movie star_ – and grazes his fingertips over Zach’s constellation tattoo, smearing it with blood.  “Come on, my Icy Bear, just give me this,” he murmurs into Zach’s ear.  “Please.”

Zach scowls, but mutters, “Fine,” as though it’s a fucking hardship getting jerked off.  “Just this once.”

Chris kisses him hard, lots of teeth, but doesn’t stop moving his hand, and it doesn’t take long before Zach gets that glazed look in his eye that he gets when he’s close.  “You’ve been so good for me,” Chris says, and he really has, he’s made it so much easier than he could have.  He’s actually astonished that Zach made it through without stopping things.

“Thank you,” Zach manages to say, and he starts coming, shooting over himself and over Chris’s fist, and when he does, it hits Chris like an adrenaline rush – he did this.  _He_ did this to Zach.  It feels fucking amazing.  It feels like _winning_.  He darts his eyes back and forth from Zach’s face to his cock, determined to remember.  The way Zach’s eyes flutter closed, the way a deep red flush washes over his cheeks, the way his lips draw back reflexively over sharp teeth – Chris feels his shoulder twinge in sympathy.

But afterwards, when Zach is flexing his fingers, cramped from pulling so hard at the straps, and Chris is still licking lazily at the come and blood on his chest – when the rush starts to fade, Chris begins to realize why Zach makes such a big deal out of the aftercare.  Because as beautiful as it was to cut into him and watch his blood flowing, Chris is starting to feel guilty.  And worried.  And slightly appalled at himself.

“I’m sorry,” he says, looking up at Zach.  But Zach shakes his head.

“No apologies.  Just – help me get cleaned up.”

Chris takes him through to the bathroom and wipes him down with a warm cloth.  “You didn’t quote any poetry,” he says, for something to say.

“There once was a man from Nantucket?”

Chris laughs. “Did I – did I cut too deep?”  One of the cuts, the last one, is still bleeding a little and he covers his mouth with his hand.  “Zach, did I–”

“It’s fine.”  Zach pulls his hand into both of his.  “I promise.  You did just fine.  Not too deep.  They just – need Bandaids.”  Chris scrabbles for them.

“Iodine?”

“No, just a little Neosporin.  Iodine can aggravate scarring.”

“Oh, God.”

“Christopher, it’s _fine_ , I’m telling you.”  But Zach still looks too pale, too _thoughtful_.

Chris finds he has to avoid looking at himself in the mirror.  His fingers are shaking as he tapes butterfly Bandaids over the cuts, and when he’s done, he wants to bandage up Zach in gauze like he does to Chris after things like this, even though it’s completely unnecessary, and he’s complained about it so much before when Zach insisted on it, but he totally gets it now.  He needs to _see_ that Zach is alright, and a few Bandaids are just a few Bandaids, nowhere near enough.  Zach turns obligingly around as Chris winds the bandage and secures it.

They stand still for a moment, looking at each other.  Zach’s eyes are dark and serious.  “Do you – do you feel like I push you into things you don’t want to do?”

“What?  No.”  As Zach’s words sink in, Chris starts to feel a little panicky.  “Did I push _you_ too far?”

“I don’t know.”  That’s so far away from what Chris wants to hear right now.  “It’s just, you said some stuff.”

“What stuff?”  But Zach looks lost for words – also not helping.  Zach is _never_ lost for words.  “No, I didn’t mean anything that way.  I was just…”  He was just carried away.  He lost control.  Chris drops his eyes to the Aum around Zach’s neck.

“Forget it,” Zach says.  “Do you want to lie down now?”

Chris nods.  He wants to snuggle.  Hardcore.  He gets that too, now.  Zach’s need to hold him and breathe into his neck afterwards.

“Did you enjoy it?” Zach asks, when they’ve arranged themselves back in bed.  The gauze is rough but comforting against Chris’s arm, wrapped gently around Zach.

“Yeah.”

“You don’t sound too sure.”

“I didn’t understand how I would feel afterwards.”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know if I did it right.”  Zach doesn’t say anything.  “Did _you_ enjoy it?”

“It was…interesting.  I don’t think I’d like to do it again.  Not for a long time, anyway.”

Chris tries really, really hard not to hear that as a criticism, but it’s difficult not to, and his voice is a little terse when he points out, “You stayed hard the whole time.”

“That’s because I was thinking of everything I’m going to do to you as payback.”  Zach is smiling at him now, and Chris snorts.

“When you’re doing that to me – do you ever go under, like I do?”

“No.  I couldn’t.  It wouldn’t be safe.”

“And you didn’t go under this time.”

“No.”

Chris thinks about it for a moment.  Should he consider it a failure?  He doesn’t know.  “I guess that’s why there was no poetry.”  He grins hesitantly.

“Roses are red, violets are blue, I hope you enjoyed that because you are so totally screwed, you have _no_ idea.  Poetic enough?”

“Didn’t even rhyme.”

“ _Vers libre_ , Christopher.  Honestly, you’re so bourgeois.”

Chris starts snickering.  When he’s finished, he feels a little better.  “Do you crash like that?” he wonders.  “Like I did?”  _Like I still am_.  Because he still feels uneasy, like he’s done something really wrong.  It’s settled like a small hot stone in his stomach.

“I try to keep it under wraps.  And no, not every time.  But, yeah, I get the drop.  You know that.”

“I did, yeah.  I just didn’t realize…what it felt like.  For you.”

“Well.  Now you do.  And I’m starting to realize what things feel like for you.  Fucking _sore_.  Seriously, is there something wrong with you?  _Why_ would you like this?”

Zach keeps teasing him until Chris feels almost back to normal.  Almost.  He’s quieter than usual, thinking about Zach and his self-control.  Maybe Zach was right.  Maybe something too real would be dangerous.  And Chris clings to the last shreds of that unsettled, uneasy, guilty feeling – he wants to remember that as much as he wants to remember Zach’s face when he came all over his hand.

Zach falls quiet too.  Restrained.  Or maybe just strained.  Chris is finding it hard to tell.

“Was that a good idea?” Chris wonders.

“I don’t know.”

“I wish you did.  It’s unsettling when you don’t.”

“I’m sorry I’m not infallible.”

“Are you worrying about things?  You feel like you’re worrying.”

There’s a long pause before Zach says, “No.”  It hangs in the air between them, a lie, and they both know it, but Chris also knows why Zach has told it.  It’s a kind untruth for mutual comfort; a chance for both of them to pretend that everything is okay.  And maybe tomorrow everything _will_ be okay.  _After sleep_ , Chris thinks.  _Sleep will help._  
  
“Okay,” he says, and jams his nose between Zach’s neck and the pillow.  “I have no idea how you sleep like this; it’s fucking uncomfortable.”  But it’s reassuring.  He can feel Zach’s pulse, steady, beating against his skin.  He starts to relax.

“Hey,” he says.

“What?”

“You really do have an amazing O-face.”

“Shut up, Pine,” Zach laughs.


End file.
